The Dog, The Wolf, The Stag, The Rat Year 1
by NevilleBamf
Summary: Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, James Potter, Peter Pettigrew. The Dog, The Wolf, The Stag, The Rat. Follow them through their first year as secrets are uncovered and mischief is managed. Mentions of CP/ Mild smacking
1. Chapter 1

"James, honey. James, wake up. You need to get dressed and bring your trunk downstairs. The train leaves in two hours, and you wouldn't want to miss the train on your very first day at Hogwarts." Hannah Potter leaned over her sleeping boy, shaking his shoulder in an attempt to wake him. He finally rolled over, dark brown eyes popping open.

"Bloody hell, I'd forgotten!" James exclaimed. Hannah decided to overlook the cursing, knowing how excited he was. The raven haired boy shot out of bed and began to unbutton his sleep shirt. "Get out, mum! I've got to change, haven't I?"

Mrs. Potter smiled. Satisfied that James was fully awake, she gave him a kiss on his head and started down the stairs. Not a minute after she had reached the kitchen, James bounded down the steps, appropriately dressed in a muggle pair of jeans and a blue shirt. Behind him, he dragged a heavy red trunk, embossed with James's initials.

"Let's go! Let's go! Let's go!" James chanted.

"We've plenty of time, dear. Your father is meeting us at the platform. He had a commitment at the Ministry this morning, but he'll be there to see you off." Hannah finished making James's lunch, a turkey sandwich and a few chocolate frogs to share, and swiftly shoved it into his trunk.

"Where's Archimedes?" James hadn't listened to a word his mother said. He was intent on finding his owl.

"James!"

"Mum!" James mimicked in the exact tone his mother had used.

"Settle yourself. Archimedes is already at Hogwarts, in the Owlery. Dad sent him last night, after you went to bed. Now come here and let me fix your hair." Hannah swept forward, and with the quickness only a mother possessed, arranged James's hair in a way that looked more presentable.

"Oi! 'Gerroff me!" James ducked under the table, laughing.

Hannah smiled a watery smile. She was going to miss James so much; he was her baby, her only child. With him gone, who would keep her up to date on the latest Quidditch scores in the Quidditch world cup? Who would wake her up in the morning, requesting she make breakfast? Who would annoy her to no end, and then make it all better just by giving her a hug?

She and her husband were going to be very lonely these next few months, as they got used to James's absence. It would be a strange experience, yes, but Hannah was willing to endure it. Hannah wanted her son to be happy, and seeing him smile like that, laughing and jittery in excitement for Hogwarts, she couldn't hold him back.

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"Dad, get up! Mum! We're going to miss the train if you sleep much longer!" Remus Lupin, a usually serious boy, bounced on his hands and knees on his parent's bed.

John Lupin mumbled something and turned over in his sleep. Rose Lupin stirred a bit, but, to Remus's disappointment, did not open her eyes.

Fine. Remus knew he wasn't supposed to touch his mum's wand, but he felt his parents would accept it this one occasion. He grasped his mum's wand, which was on the bedside table, and pointed it at his parents. "Ennervate."

Instantly, both John and Rose opened their eyes. "You're not supposed to use magic, yet, Remus," Rose scolded, popping the boy's thigh lightly.

"Already breaking the rules, eh?" John chuckled. He put his glasses on and stood up. "Breakfast, shall we?"

Remus nodded, set his mother's wand back on the table, and hopped down from bed. "Ah, ah, ah. We've got to put your scar cream on first, Rem," his mother reminded him. "I know it stings, but we've got to put it on. Healer Dean said so. And I'll know if you don't put it on at Hogwarts."

Puffing out his cheeks in resigned obedience, Remus got the cream for his mother, who stood from bed and applied the thick white cream to her son's scarred face. Remus was anything but an ordinary child. He was a werewolf, and sometimes during his transformations he would scratch himself across the face. A single scar ran down the bridge of Remus's freckled nose, and a few others on his chin and cheeks.

"Mum!" Remus protested as Rose applied a particularly large quantity to the left side of his face.

"Remus, you'll get infected if I don't do this. Now go see if your father's started breakfast, and once you've eaten you can wash this off, okay?"

Nodding, Remus allowed his mother to kiss his head. He did, however, manage to duck when she attempted to brush his hair away from his eyes. She smiled fondly at him, watching as he ran down the hall.

She reminded herself that Remus would be in good hands at Hogwarts, with Professor Dumbledore as headmaster. Dumbledore had made sure Remus would be safe during his transformations. He would be locked away from everyone else, in a shack near the school. This way, he wouldn't hurt others, and no one would know about Remus being a werewolf.

"Morning, darling," John Lupin singsonged as he flipped a pancake onto Remus's waiting plate.

"Morning." Rose sat down across from Remus, who was attacking his pancakes. Rose couldn't cook to save her life, and she was glad John could, for she refused to enslave an elf.

"Mum, the cream. Please let me-"

"Remus," John said sternly, setting a plate in front of Rose and sitting down to eat his own breakfast, "You will wear the cream until breakfast is over, and you will wear it at Hogwarts during breakfast, too. Werewolf scratches are easily infected, Rem. We have to put the cream on you."

"But everybody will ask why I have to wear it," protested Remus, who simply thought the cream was the worst invention there was.

"And you're to tell them you have a rash. We've been over this. When you go to transform, you're to say that your mum is sick, and you're needed at home. Now I love you, but I don't want to hear another word about this." Mr. Lupin finished speaking and resumed eating.

Remus looked down at his plate, no longer hungry as he once had been. "Sorry," he mumbled. John looked at his son for a moment before setting down his fork and ruffling Remus's hair.

"Oh, Rem. We'll miss you."

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"Regulus, get in the closet. Now." Sirius directed quickly, shoving his little brother into the closet and standing in front of it just as Orion Black came upstairs.

"WHO PUT CHEWING GUM ON YOUR GRANDMOTHER'S PORTRAIT?"

In truth, it had been Regulus who had done this, for he was only six years old and thought it would be a funny prank. Sirius had seen him do it late last night, and had scolded him before trying to get it off. Without a wand, though, this was hard, and Sirius was unsuccessful.

Which was why Sirius was hiding his brother in the closet. Orion Black, the boys' father, had a quick temper, and an even quicker fist. When he found out Regulus had put the gum there, a beating was sure to occur. Sirius couldn't let this happen. He was five years older than his brother, and felt, as such, that it was his responsibility to take whatever punishments his father dealt out.

"I did, Father," Sirius lied with practiced ease.

"DID YOU THINK IT WOULD BE FUNNY, BOY?"

Sirius nodded and kicked the door lightly with the back of his shoe, hoping Regulus wouldn't try to confess to the crime. "Yes, sir, Father."

The beating went as it always did, starting with Sirius bent over the bed, and ending with a bruised Sirius sprawled out on the floor as Orion towered over him. "Now get up," Orion demanded, putting his belt back on. "Hogwarts train leaves in an hour."

Only when the door was slammed shut did Regulus venture out of the closet. "Was it bad?" The little boy asked, always hoping for an answer different from the usual one, which was almost always 'yes'.

"Not really," Sirius answered, rising and giving his brother a pat on the head before continuing to pack his clothing into his trunk. This was an honest answer. It was not bad, not compared to the ones Orion usually doled out.

Walburga entered the room, her wrinkled face showing no emotion. She said nothing at first, only stood in the doorway. Finally, she handed Sirius a tiny container of bruise salve. "No one can know what goes on. You are to put that on, it will heal you." She did not say anything else, merely turned back the way she had came and exited the room, her black robes billowing behind her. This did not surprise Sirius; his mother wanted to keep her reputation in tact, and it would not do for someone to find out about what happening in the Black house.

Sirius excused himself from the room. His brother did not need to see his back, not the scars on it, nor the bruises. He rubbed the cream on his back, grateful for relief, and watched as the bruises faded. He pulled his shirt back on and ventured down the stairs, carrying his trunk and his owl, Pluto. Regulus was eating a bagel, and Sirius was relieved that neither of his parents were in the kitchen, only Kreacher and Henny, the house elves.

Guilty. That was what Sirius felt. He felt guilty that he was so eager to leave this house, the house where his brother would be trapped. Excited. That's what he also felt. Because for the first time, Sirius was going away. Away from the place where he had taken so many beatings, felt so much anger. Away.

Peter Pettigrew slept. He slept through everything, including the death of his parents. Of course, this didn't really count. Peter was only a toddler when his parents had died, a mere 3 year old. Gretchen and Ralph Pettigrew had died in a fire in the kitchen, while Peter slept upstairs, oblivious to the cries of his parents down below.

So it did not surprise Rachel, Peter's aunt, that she was forced to douse Peter in a bucket of water before he even stirred. "Hmm," Peter mumbled, sitting up.

Rachel chuckled at her nephew, the closest thing to a son she had. "Go take a shower," she ordered, dragging him up. "Hogwarts is waiting."

"Then let it wait," Peter grumbled as his aunt pushed him towards the bathroom. Rachel pushed the door closed after Peter.

"Don't come out until you're good and clean!"

Ten minutes later, as Rachel waited for Pinky the house elf to finish breakfast, Peter emerged from the bathroom, looking much more awake than he had previously. "I bet I'll be in Hufflepuff," he groaned by way of morning greeting.

Rachel put her hand to her heart in mock offense. "Your dear old Aunt Rachel was in Hufflepuff, Peter."

Peter picked at the eggs Pinky set in front of him. "You're not old, Aunt Rachel. And I wouldn't mind Hufflepuff, really. I just want to be a Gryffindor."

Rachel smiled, leaned across the table, and put her hand on Peter's. "Then you will be. If it's Gryffindor where you see yourself, then the hat won't stop you."

A/N: Sorry about Peter's part. I just really, really hate Peter so it was hard to write about him. Gah. Anyway, hope you like. Review and I'll give you a chocolate frog.


	2. Chapter 2

"Behave yourself," Hannah reminded her son as he squirmed about on the platform, eager to board the train.

"Hannah, let him be. He'll be fine, won't you, James?" A deep voice withhin the crowd asked.

Recognizing it immediately, James whirled around and launched himself into his father's arms. "Dad!"

"Hey, buddy. I have something to give you," Charles Potter grinned, returning the hug. He opened his briefcase, which he carried so often it was awkward to see him without it, and from it pulled a silvery lightweight material.

An invisibility cloak, James knew instantly. He took it gingerly from his father, his eyes lighting up. "Wow," he breathed. "Wow." James was ecstatic, for he had wanted his father's special cloak since his first glimpse of it.

Hannah, however, was not convinced it was a good idea to give an 11 year-old mischief maker a cloak of invisibility. "Charles," she protested.

Charles interrupted her, and bent down to James's level. "Hannah, he'll use it well. He won't use it to hurt other people or do mean things. Because James knows where he'll end up if I find out that's what he's using it for."

Hannah nodded. This, she guessed, was a lost battle. James had the cloak now, and to take it when he had first been given it would be mean.

James gulped. He knew exactly what would happen if he misused the cloak. Smackings weren't often given in the Potter household, but doing something dangerous or outrightly disobeying always warranted one.

"I'm too old," James said, a pink blush creeping up the side of his neck as he looked around to make sure no one was listening. No one was. The platform was too full, too crowded with noises and jabbing elbows and hugs goodbye, for anyone to even pay attention to the conversation.

"Almost," agreed Charlie, hugging his son one last time before he tucked the cloak into the boy's trunk.

"We love you." Hannah stole a hug from her son. "We'll miss you."

"I'll write," James promised, returning the hug and waving as he dragged his trunk towards the train.

Soon, he was lost in the crowd, and Hannah and Charles turned away, misty eyed. "He'll be alright," whispered Charles as he hugged his wife to him.

"I know he will."

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"Alright?" John Lupin brushed his hands together, having just finished stowing Remus's trunk in the luggage compartment under the train.

"Yeah." Remus was quiet.

"It's okay to be sad, son."

Rose walked over, finished with a conversation she'd struck up with an old school mate. "Alright, Rem. You best go get a seat. We'll stand right here until your train leaves, okay?" Rose wrapped her arms around her son, who was standing stiffly and quietly.

"I-I love you," Remus sounded choked as he said this, as if he was holding back tears.

"And we love you," John whispered.

Then he was gone. Just like that. Remus couldn't stand it any longer. He had to get on the train, or he was going to cry. And he couldn't cry, or he'd look like a baby.

Rose watched as her son took a deep, shaky breath and stepped onto the train without looking back. That was when the dam broke. Her own tears came, hot and salty down her cheeks before she could stop herself. "That's our baby, John. All on his own."

"He'll make friends, and he'll be just fine. You couldn't shelter him forever, Rose, and you knew that he would eventually be gone from you, on his way to Hogwarts. We can't hold him back for our own selfish reasons. He has to fly."

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Backpack on his shoulder, Sirius swerved to avoid a Fanged Frisbee that was zigzagging its way across the train. "Oi! Whoever's frisbee this is, get control!" A Ravenclaw Prefect ordered, taking hold of the frisbee. "And you," this was directed at Sirius, "find a compartment to sit in or I'll find one for you."

Sirius stomped along the train, looking into each compartment to see if there were any first years in them. A group of girls were giggling over something. Some boys, older than Sirius, were playing a game of Exploding Snap. Then there were some first years, but not the kind Sirius wanted to be seen with. Half of them had runny noses, and the other half were crying shamelessly. How old were they? Three?

Finally, Sirius found a compartment of three boys who looked like suitable companions. "Hey." Sirius said, opening the sliding door and dropping his bag on the floor.

"Hey yourself," said a boy with glasses and unruly hair.

"Mind?" Sirius gestured to the empty space.

"No. If Remus-is that what you said your name was?-doesn't mind."

The boy called Remus, who had a long scar down his face, shrugged. "I don't care. Go on."

Relieved, Sirius sunk into the plush booth seat. He examined the boys closer. One of them, the one who hadn't spoken at all, was chubby with blond wavy hair and crooked teeth. He appeared to be quite nervous, and he kept tapping his fingers against the windowpane. "Peter Pettigrew," the chubby boy introduced himself, noticing Sirius looking at him.

"Sirius Black," Sirius replied, reaching down into his bag and taking out some coins. He jiggled them in his palm, looking around for the witch with the candy cart.

"I'm Remus Lupin."

"James Potter. I want to be in Gryffindor, and you three?"

Sirius had considered this question for quite some time. Both his parents were Slytherins, and that was where he was expected to be placed. Except for the fact that Sirius didn't want to be in Slytherin. His parents were both terrible people, and he hated them. "Gryffindor," he answered with a grin.

Peter ceased tapping on the window for a moment. "Gryffindor." Then his fingers began to tap again, and he resumed his gazing out the window.

"Same." Remus smiled.

"Well, then, let's hope we all get in. Sirius, you said your last name was Black?" James had heard about the Blacks, and none of them were good.

James noticed Sirius stiffen. "Yes. I'm from the most Ancient and Noble House of Black." Sirius sneered as he said this.

"Nothing wrong with that," Remus said, wanting to avoid controversy.

"Actually, there is. Sirius, be a Slytherin. Sirius, know your place. Sirius, your a Black! Sirius, stop hanging about with those mudbloods!" Sirius mocked.

The three boys cringed at the word 'mudblood'. "Well, you want to be a Gryffindor," Peter reasoned, "and that means your different." This was the first full sentence any of them had heard Peter say.

"Yes, I suppose." Sirius pulled out a couple of Chocolate Frogs, setting the coins he had in his palm aside. "Nicked these from my cousin, Bellatrix, when we were at her house last month. Should still be good."

The boys laughed, and chocolate frogs were passed about. Remus, sitting next to Sirius, took one, then tossed one to Peter, sitting across from him. James took one, smiling. "Sirius, I think we're gonna be good mates."

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"Gryffindor!" Roared the hat, as James Potter, the arrogant but friendly boy from the train, was sorted.

Sirius had already been sorted, and he was sitting at his respective table, beaming happily. Gryffindor was also his house. Peter stood behind a pretty girl with long red hair. "Lily Evans?" McGonagall called out, lifting the hat from James's head.

The redhead bounded forward and took a seat on the stool. Her emerald eyes gleamed with fascination, and Peter could tell she was a muggleborn. Only muggleborns were this excited about the floating candles and the ceiling enchanted to look like the night sky.

"Gryffindor!" The hat called, and Peter watched as Lily Evans took a seat beside James, shaking his hand and smiling.

"Peter? Peter Pettigrew?" With shaking legs, Peter approached the stool. McGonagall smiled at him, and he gently scooched onto the chair, gripping both sides tight. The hat went on his head, covering his eyes.

Ahhh. Peter Pettigrew. Rather dull mind, I'm afraid, but there's cunning. Oh yes, cunning and slyness. You should be in Slytherin, yes.

Not Slytherin, thought Peter.

Gryffindor, then? Go on. "GRYFFINDOR!"

Cheers erupted from the Lions, and McGonagall removed the hat from Peter's head. Peter made his way to the Gryffindor table, and smiled, flushed and content.

Remus followed Peter into Gryffindor almost immediately, for the hat had barely touched the boy's head when it called out the verdict. "Cheers, mate!" Sirius grinned. He took a slurp of pumpkin juice and burped as Lily Evans crinkled her nose.

"Severus Snape." This was the last first year in need of sorting, and the entire hall quieted, wondering who would get the last one.

"Look at his hair," Sirius jeered, examining the grease, and James laughed. Remus, sitting next to Sirius, jabbed him in the ribs. Lily Evans stood quietly from the table, and moved down a bit, taking a seat next to Alice.

"She's his friend," Remus explained as Slytherin house gained their final member, Severus Snape. "I saw them together on the train, and they sat together in the rowboat."

Sirius didn't appear to care, but James looked at Lily a while longer. Finally, he turned to his plate, which had filled with his favorites. Mashed potatoes covered in gravy slopped on the plate, looking delicious.

Peter smiled. He was happy to be in this house, with these people around him. He was happy he had found a place to belong, after not having a place for so long.


	3. Chapter 3

Two weeks after sorting.

"Get up," Sirius threw his pillow at Remus, who mumbled incoherently and rolled to the side. James was concerned. He had lived with Remus for a little over two weeks, and the boy did not seem to be in good health. He had looked particularly sickly these past few days, and now he was so tired he could not be woken.

"Let's just get breakfast," Peter suggested, only thinking of his rumbling stomach. He was already dressed, even though it was only 7:00. Breakfast started at 7:30, but meals weren't something Peter messed around with.

"What, and leave him up here?" James snapped. "He's obviously not well."

Peter looked a bit put out, for he was not one that skipped meals willingly. James, however, shot him a look, and the blond boy sunk into a desk chair, sighing. "Sorry," Peter mumbled.

"Remus," James shook the boy's shoulder, managing to get the boy to stir. "Remus, you need to wake up. You don't look so good."

This seemed to catch Remus's attention, as he, ever so slowly, sat up. His face was pale, and he looked more sickly than James had ever seen him. "I'm not sick, James, just worried. My mother, I got an owl last night, she is sick. I'll have to go see her."

James didn't recall seeing any owls coming or leaving the dormitory last night, but why would Remus lie? "Today? But we've got a Quidditch match tonight," Sirius protested.

"He means he's sorry your mum's ill," James hurried to say. Sirius was bluntly honest about what he was thinking and feeling, and he sometimes didn't think before speaking.

Remus nodded, but he didn't say anything as he got up from bed. He lost his balance for a moment, and James reached out to steady him. "I've got it!" Remus said sharply, pushing James's hand away.

"Alright."

Sirius, Peter, and James watched as Remus applied his scar cream, wincing in pain. He did this everyday without fail, and he did his best to ignore the jabs and sneers coming from the Slytherin table. Sometimes, James would chuck an apple at the back of Bellatrix Lestrange's head for laughing at Remus, much to Sirius's delight. McGonagall noticed this, but she never commented about the flying fruit.

"Let's go then. I'll be having breakfast, and then I'll be on my way," Remus didn't meet the eyes of anyone in the room as he stomped down the stairs. Peter hustled eagerly after him, but Sirius remained seated on his bed, and James leaned against the bedpost.

"He says his mum's ill, but it looks like he is," James wondered aloud.

"He's probably just worried about her, James. Rem's a sensitive bloke, you know that."

James nodded, his curiosity appeased for the time being. "Breakfast, then?" The two boys raced each other down the stair, stumbling over each other's feet and laughing.

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Remus couldn't eat. He poked at his eggs and used his toast to sop up the messy bits. His nerves were taking over, as they always did the day of the full moon. What if someone found out? What if he hurt someone? That's how it was with Remus. He didn't even think about hurting himself, for that was bound to happen during werewolf transformations. His only concern was for others, and what would happen to them if he wasn't locked away properly.

"Remus, it is time to go now. Your parents are expecting you shortly," Dumbledore said, appearing at the table and laying a hand on the boy's shoulder.

"Yes, sir," Remus swallowed thickly, and the butterflies in his stomach multiplied tenfold. He used a simple spell to take the gunk off of his face.

Sirius nodded at Remus, and James smiled. "Tell your mum we hope she gets well," Sirius said, James and Peter nodding in agreement.

"I will."

With that, Dumbledore steered the boy out of the Great Hall by the shoulders gently. In the corridor, he gestured for Remus to remain quiet and follow him. The two walked in silence for a ways before Dumbledore pushed open the front doors of the school. Remus felt like his stomach was in his feet; he was so nervous.

Soon, the pair reached a tree. No, not just any tree. This tree was huge, with swinging branches and rotating trunk. When Dumbledore got close, the tree began to thrash wildly. As Remus's eyes widened in fear, Dumbledore raised his wand and tapped the trunk. With a slow, breathing-like noise, the tree stopped. Its branches hung limply, and it now looked like a regular tree.

"Wow," breathed Remus, for that was all he was able to say.

Dumbledore's blue eyes twinkled as he slipped his wand back into his robes. "Ah, yes, the Whomping Willow. This is where your transformations will occur. Right in here, follow me."

Dumbledore disappeared into a door at the base of the tree, and Remus followed slowly. Down a tunnel the two of them went, through a door. At the end, there was a room. A room specifically for Remus, with a bed. Seeing him glance at this, Dumbledore explained, "The bed is magically bolted to the floor so you won't hurt yourself. You will not find much need for it, as the majority of your time in here will be transforming."

Finally, Remus spoke. "Why must I come in here so early, sir?"

"Unfortunately, the staff and I thought it would be best for you to stay in here during the course of the day. We cannot afford to have a mishap if you transform right in the middle of the Gryffindor common room. This is, of course, to ensure your safety as well as your peers."

Nodding, Remus examined the room. It was barren, with only the bed. There were no windows, and there were no doors, save for the one they had come through. The floors were dirt, and the walls were cement. This was not all unlike the basement in which Remus used to transform at home. "Sir?"

"Yes?"

"You're making a mistake, sir. I'm dangerous. If I get out-"

Dumbledore's expression turned stern, and he looked Remus straight in the eyes. "I have made many mistakes in my day, my dear boy, but this is not one of them. You are no monster, and society is wrong in making you believe that."

"But-"

"You are more than just a werewolf, Remus. You will do well to remember that. Now, am I correct that I am supposed to take your wand?"

The boy nodded his head, and out of his robes he pulled his wand. He had grown quite attached to it over the past few weeks, but he knew he needed to part with it to keep it from getting broken. Dumbledore gently took the wand from him. "Madam Pomfrey will get you in the morning."

He patted Remus on the head and slowly made his way out of the shack. When the door closed behind the headmaster, Remus flung himself onto the bed, sobbing. Everything was always so hard.

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Sirius woke up the next morning, stretching his arms above his head. The quidditch game last night had been amazing, and Gryffindor had won against Slytherin. The entire house spent half the night partying in the common room, Sirius included.

"Hey, sleepy head," Peter greeted him. "Check it out." The Daily Prophet was tossed at his head, and Sirius caught it.

"Page four," James piped up, eating a pastry.

Sirius turned to the page James had said, and instantly brightened. "Wow!"

Howling in Hogsmeade

Late last night, Hogsmeade got a taste of the action it hadn't had in so long. Many villagers reported hearing painful howling noises coming from a recently built shack near Hogsmeade. There has been a lot of speculation on what could have caused this, and the rumors were finally set straight by Headmaster of Hogwarts, Albus Dumbledore, early this morning.

"There were several ghouls in the dungeons," Dumbledore explains, "and they were disrupting class. The staff and I have placed them out of the way, and it is our belief that the shrieking you are hearing is caused by the upset these ghouls feel at having been moved. We apologize for any disturbance this might have caused, and we will be placing silencing charms on the building this afternoon."

"Ghouls! That's wicked cool!" exclaimed Sirius.

"Yeah. Listen, it's Saturday, so we can go down to the lake in the Forbidden Forest today. I'll leave a note for Remus in case he comes back to school while we're gone," James said, scribbling something down and tacking it to the back of the door.

The Forbidden Forest lake was strictly forbidden, hence the name, but the boys didn't care. James and Sirius were troublemakers, that's what they excelled at. For Remus, it was DADA, and for Peter, Charms. Peter and Remus would follow along with the plans, yes, but Sirius and James thought them up.

"I don't think we ought to-" Peter started.

"Then stay here," Sirius interrupted, hopping out of bed and putting on his swimming trunks with immense speed.

James was dressed, too, and the two of them looked at Peter, waiting for an answer. "Alright," he sighed, opening his trunk and taking out a pair of trunks. "Alright. But put on robes over your trunks in case a teacher sees us."

Everyone dressed, the three boys escaped out the front door of the castle without running into anyone, using James's cloak. You were allowed to go out on Saturdays and hang on the front lawn, but only after obtaining permission. "Come on." Sirius handed the cloak to James, and the three boys tore off towards the Forbidden Forest. Wearing the cloak all the way there would be cumbersome.

Panting, Sirius leaned on a tree. "Here it is."

They had all just run for 5 minutes straight, over rough terrain to get to where James had estimated the lake was. Peter was winded, huffing. James was smiling wildly, like he always did when the group was getting into something mischievous.

"Race you," James called, flinging off his robes and throwing them in a pile along with his glasses. Peter chased after him, and Sirius followed. Soon all three were splashing about in the water.

"Do tell me you have an explanation," a voice said minutes later.

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"Come with me," McGonagall instructed, 10 short minutes after discovering the three roommates in the lake.

Peter followed her into her office, James and Sirius hanging on his heels. "We-"

"Mr. Pettigrew, unless you are about to pass out or drop dead, I do not wish to hear another word." Minerva sat at her desk and gestured for the three boys to sit down on the couch in front of her. "Each of you will lose 5 points for your actions this afternoon. It was extremely dangerous for you to be out there without anyone's knowledge. If something had happened to you we would never forgive ourselves, any of us."

"Yes Ma'am," the three boys said in unison.

"Furthermore, you each will need to write to your parents and tell them what has happened. You essentially snuck out of the castle, went somewhere forbidden, and neglected to let anyone know where you were. That's a very serious thing, boys. James, along with your letter, you will send the invisibility cloak home. If your father wishes for you to have it back, then that's his decision."

Done lecturing, Minerva banished the three delinquents from her office. They sagged out, subdued and thoroughly scolded. Peter glared at Sirius and James, mad that they had made him come along and gotten him into trouble.

"Oh, get over it," Sirius snapped at Peter, who glared at him all the way through the corridors, up the staircase, into the portrait hole, and through the common room.

Hope you like :)


	4. Chapter 4

James and Sirius entered the dorm, and huffed in a final act of defiance before sitting down to write their parents. "Bad day?" A shaky voice asked from Remus's bed.

"The worst. Oi, Remus! You're back!" James grinned.

Peter entered the room and blatantly ignored James and Sirius. He saw Remus lying in bed, a thin scratch-fresh-down his jawline and a bruise on his eye. "What happened to you?"

"Oh, I, uh, tripped."

James walked over to the bed to see what Peter was talking about. He was surprised to see that Remus appeared to have been beaten up. "You tripped," James stated flatly.

"Yeah."

Sirius took the bruise cream his mother had given him out of his trunk, silently setting it on Remus's bed. He didn't say anything as he did this, and he averted the questioning looks of James and Peter. "Here," Sirius said quietly. "It'll help with the bruises."

Remus nodded, not asking how Sirius happened to have a highly expensive bruise cream in his possession. "Thanks."

James watched this exchange with careful eyes. He didn't keep bruise cream in his trunk, and he got hurt worse than Sirius most times. Still, it could have been that Sirius's mum was overprotective. This James doubted, however, as Sirius hadn't received a single letter from any of his family since he'd been put in Gryffindor.

James knew some families didn't like the family bloodline messed up. James's parents, of course, were not those kinds of people. They had told him on several occasions that it would be perfectly okay if he didn't get sorted into Gryffindor as they had.

It bothered James more than it seemed to bother Sirius. Sirius had gotten a Howler the day after his sorting, the one time Sirius had been contacted by his parents. Always curious, James waited for Sirius to open it. But his friend had done something odd. Instead of opening it in the Great Hall as was customary, Sirius had picked up the vibrating red envelope and walked out of the hall.

No one said a word about it when Sirius had returned several minutes later. Sirius himself didn't even acknowledge the fact that he had gotten a howler. The boy had simply smiled at his friends, who were sending him curious glances, and slid back into his seat to resume throwing grape pits at Bella Black's head.

Sirius behaved strangely sometimes, James reasoned, that was it.

Minutes after Sirius had given him the bruise cream, Remus had shooed James and Peter away from his bed. "Don't you have letters to write to your parents?" he smirked. "I'm fine, really. Now let me sleep, I'm bloody tired."

Grumbling, his two friends joined Sirius, who was sitting at the desk chewing on the end of his quill. A less perceptive person might not have noticed, but Remus could see the nervousness in Sirius's eyes. But it wasn't the same as the nervousness Peter or James had. They were afraid of getting punished, nothing more. Sirius was afraid of something, really and truly afraid.

"I'll get punished so bad," James complained, flopping down in his chair and summoning some parchment.

"Yeah? What'll your dad do?" Peter asked, scribbling something down, reading it over, and crossing it out.

"He'll take my broom for sure, so I won't be able to ride over the hols. He'll ground me, too, and I won't be allowed to have you all over during Christmas break." James sighed after he said this, and Remus rolled his eyes. That was hardly the worst punishment ever.

"Aunt Rachel'll just give me this look." To demonstrate, Peter set down his quill. He turned to James, and Sirius looked over. Remus chuckled to himself as Peter gave them the sternest look he had. "What about you, Sirius?"

Remus saw a flash of panic in Sirius's face before it regained the composure it usually had. "Nothing. My father won't care."

"Lucky!" James huffed, finishing his letter and sealing it away before calling his owl over. Archimedes left shortly after, bearing three letters. One from Sirius, James, and Peter each.

"Now we wait?" Sirius asked.

"Now you wait," Remus confirmed, happy he wasn't in the same situation his best friends were.

The three rule breakers paced the room. Sirius muttered to himself in low tones, as if he was preparing himself for something. Peter didn't know what else to do with himself, so he simply copied James, storming about the room and mumbling angrily about how they hadn't caused any harm. From his bed, Remus nursed his transformation wounds with the cream Sirius had given him, watching the whole dysfunctional scene.

Half an hour after the letters had been sent, Archimedes appeared at the window of the dorm, dropping two red Howlers and a thick parchment envelope on the desk. Nobody moved for half a second, but then Peter shot forward and grabbed the parchment envelope on the desk, hoping to Merlin his aunt hadn't sent him a Howler.

She hadn't. The parchment envelope was indeed Peter's and he sat down to read it, relieved. James went pale, and he snatched up the red envelope and drop kicked it to the floor, covering his ears.

But no screaming came out of the Howler. It was simply James's mother's voice, speaking calmly. "James, I told your father not to give you that cloak, and he accepts the responsibility for that, but you are the one that snuck out to the lake. I have told you many times about that lake, and about that forest, and you chose to not listen. Your cloak will remain with you, as this is the first time you've abused the privilege, but you're getting a spanking, young man, as soon as you come home for Christmas hols. Your father sends his love. I love you, my sweet James."

With that, the red card exploded onto the ground. All was silent for a moment. "Go on," James fumed, "laugh then. I still get my arse smacked like a bloody four year old."

No one laughed. Remus propped himself up on the pillows in his four poster bed. "I still get a smacking now and then," he offered.

James opened his mouth to respond, but before he could the Howler for Sirius burst open with a screech worthy of a banshee. "SIRIUS BLACK! HOW DARE YOU? YOUR COUSINS DON'T CAUSE TROUBLE! BUT OF COURSE WE EXPECTED IT, WITH YOU IN GRYFFINDOR, HANGING AROUND WITH BLOOD TRAITORS AND MUDBLOODS. YOU'LL NOT BE COMING HOME FOR HOLIDAY, BOY! YOU'RE LUCKY YOUR NOT HERE NOW, OR YOUR FATHER WOULD KNOCK SOME SENSE INTO YOUR BLOODY THICK SKULL."

The card exploded and Sirius looked at his three friends. He stood for a second, frozen. Remus could see him shaking, whether in fear or anger he didn't know. "My mum," Sirius said in a shaky voice. "Charming woman, really."

"Sirius-" James wasn't stupid, he could see the hurt in his friend's eyes.

"Drop it, James," Sirius ordered, forcing himself to smile tightly. "Everything's alright now." But Remus heard the strained voice with which Sirius spoke, and he knew everything wasn't alright. The sentence 'knock some sense into your bloody thick skull' did not sit well with the werewolf.

"She didn't mean it," Peter said, tossing his letter aside.

"Yes, she did. Every word."

So now it was out. Sirius Black was not treated properly at home. To what extent, his friends didn't know, for past the conversation after the Howler had arrived, Sirius still refused to talk about home. He much preferred to change the subject whenever the question of where he would go for the holiday came up.

"Come home with me," James offered, on their way to Potions the following Monday.

"For the entire Christmas?" Sirius was disbelieving.

"Yeah, my parents won't mind. I'll write to them and say your parents weren't able to have you home."

"I dunno," shrugged Sirius, adjusting his books in his arms.

"It'll be fun! Please?" James's tone had now taken on a whining lilt. Sirius grinned.

"Alright, if it's okay with your parents and all."

It was decided. That evening, James sat in the common room by the fireplace and wrote to his parents pleading with them to have his very best mate stay the holiday. Hannah and Charles wrote back almost instantly, saying that yes, Sirius was welcome to stay with them.

The day they were to go home, James packed his trunk and dragged it into the common room so that one of the house elves could take it to the train. Sirius watched his roommates pack. Peter, with his disoriented tossing of his socks and shoes into the bottom of his trunk, and Remus, with his painstakingly perfect folded edges. But Sirius himself did not pack.

In his life, however short it had been, Sirius had been promised many things. And each of those promises had been broken. He hardly believed that when he got to the platform the Potters would actually take him home with them. They would take a look at him, the oldest Black boy, and realize that he came from a lineage of unsavory racists wizards. And he would be left on the platform, dejected, holding his trunk like the idiot he was.

His roommates were too busy packing themselves to notice that he wasn't packing, anyway. He simply sat on his bed, contemplating what he had done to make his parents hate him so much, to make his father want to hurt him.

He didn't have an answer. And perhaps that was what hurt worse than his parents not wanting him anymore. The not knowing why he was so hated, so unloved.

"Sirius, mate? We have to leave in an hour, so you might want to start packing," James advised, relaxing on his bed.

"Why?" Sirius spat, more bitter than he meant to sound. He was immersed in memories, and it was hard for him to believe someone actually wished for him to join them on the holiday.

"Because, you prat, you're coming to my house. Now get up." James jumped off of his bed and sprinted to Sirius's in one long stride, yanking his arm.

Sirius yelped. He didn't like when people suddenly grabbed him. His father had done it too much. On instinct, he covered his face with his hands.

James dropped his friend's arm, and bent to peer into his face. "Did I hurt you?"

Remus looked up, momentarily distracted from his search for his other sock. "Nah," Sirius brushed it off, "just surprised is all."

"You covered your face," Peter pointed out helpfully, as if they hadn't seen him do it. "Like you thought James would hit you." His piece said, Peter dropped to his knees to place another robe in his trunk.

"Drop it, mates." Sirius ordered, crossing the room, kicking open his trunk, and tossing a pile of clothes into it. He slammed it closed again and called for the house elf, Pinky, to take it to the train.

The subject was dropped, and it was not brought up again. The roommates made their way down stairs exactly 15 minutes before the trains were to leave. "Go! Go!" James laughed as the four of them raced through the empty hallways. Everyone was already on the train.

Huffing, the four boys made it through the gates and onto the train. They found the same compartment they had been in on the way to Hogwarts, and they situated themselves into the seats, once again passing around Chocolate Frogs.

"Peter!" His aunt flew at him, arms outstretched. Her brown, wavy hair tickled Peter's face as she attacked his plump cheeks with kisses.

"Hi, Aunt Rachel." Peter allowed himself to be kissed a few more times before stepping away, suddenly aware of Remus, James, and Sirius staring at him. "This is Remus, James, and Sirius. They're my roommates."

"So nice to meet you. I'm Rachel." Rachel smiled at the boys. They returned the smile, and then Rachel turned to Peter. "We need to get going. Goodbye boys, see you in two weeks."

And Peter disappeared into the crowd, his aunt behind him.

"Oh, Merlin," Sirius whispered, stiffening. His gripped Remus's arm, who was standing next to him. "It's my parents. Merlin, they must be here to pick up Bella."

James stepped in front of Sirius in an attempt to hide him from the lady with the wild black curls and the man with the piercing eyes. But it was too late. Sirius's mother had seen him, and she stormed over, dragging a little boy who resembled Sirius with her.

"Sirius," she said in a clipping tone.

"Mother," Sirius responded, his tone submissive, unlike any tone James or Remus had ever heard come out of his mouth.

"I told you you were not to come home for the holiday."

"I'm not, Mother. I'm going with James." Sirius gestured to James, praying to Merlin his mother wouldn't protest.

Walburga Black looked James up and down. "Are you?"

Sirius nodded.

"Verbal answer, boy!"

Flinching, Sirius nodded again. "Yes, ma'am. I'm going with James for the holiday."

Remus didn't like this interaction. It was uncomfortable and stiff, and he wanted out of there. But James was standing on his foot, a silent signal that they needed to stay. Sirius's mother stayed silent, staring Sirius in the face.

"Hey Reg," Sirius bent down and addressed the little boy, who immediately flung himself into Sirius's arms and begin to sob.

"C-come home," the little boy begged, but before Sirius could respond his mother dragged Regulus backwards by his shirt, taking him away from Sirius.

When Walburga and Regulus had disappeared completely into the crowd, Sirius sighed, heaved his trunk onto a cart, and looked at Remus and James. "My little brother, Regulus. He's six." He didn't say anything for a moment. "Let's go find your parents, mates."

"Rem! John, it's Rem!" Remus took off running down the platform, and his dad wrapped him in a hug. Remus's mother joined the hug as Sirius and James approached.

"And who might you be?" Remus's mother said pleasantly when she saw Sirius and James, ruffling her son's hair.

"James Potter, ma'am, Remus's roommate," James introduced himself.

"Sirius Black. I'm also Remus's roommate."

"Well, it's nice to finally meet you both. I've heard a lot about you two, all good things, of course," Mr. Lupin said, shaking both boys' hands.

"Bye, mate," Sirius said, clapping a hand on Remus's shoulder. "See you after the hols, yeah?"

Remus smiled, happy to be back with his mum and dad. "Yeah, I'll see you."

James and Sirius said goodbye and slipped back into the crowd. Sirius pushed the cart, and James stood on his tiptoes trying to get a glance of where his parents might be. Finally, James took hold of the metal cart and climbed to the top, so that he was perched on top of his trunk and was able to see over the heads of the people in the station.

"There!" He said, pointing. He jumped from the cart and sprinted through the crowd, Sirius and the cart rattling after him.

The reunion was a sweet one. Hannah Potter, red hair tied back in a messy bun, hugged her son tight until he complained he was having an issue with his breathing. Charles hugged James also, kissing the top of his head. "We missed you, sport."

"I missed you, too, Dad. This is Sirius." He let go of his father and pulled his friend so he was standing next to him instead of several feet behind.

"Oh, Sirius! We're so very glad you could join us," Mrs. Potter said, swooping in and giving him a hug. Mr. Potter patted his shoulder.

Sirius smiled. "I really didn't mean to intrude-"

"Nonsense! Now come along, we've opened the floo network to our house. You'll be in the guest room, unless you'd rather share with James."

Mrs. Potter said this all rather quickly as she guided the two boys by their shoulders. Mr. Potter rattled behind the three of them, having taken responsibility for transporting the luggage trolley.

"He'll share with me, mum. We share at Hogwarts," James reasoned. His mother handed him a handful of grey ashes when they got to the lobby of Kings Cross Station.

"Fine, fine, dear. Now, Potter Manor, remember."

As he had done millions of times before, James stepped confidently into the fireplace of Kings Cross Wizarding Lobby (a place where portkeys and floo networks could be easily accessed) and pronounced his words clearly and loudly before throwing down the ashes. "Potter Manor!"

Sirius followed him, Mrs. Potter and Mr. Potter afterward.

"And this is my room," James said, finally finished with his tour of Potter Manor. Sirius decided he liked James's room much more than he liked his own, for his own was painted Slytherin colors, a theme that did not particularly sit well with the young Gryffindor. However, James's room was perfect. There were two beds, each twin sized, nestled in their own corners of the room. The carpet on the floor was a deep red, and, when you stepped forward, your feet sunk into the plush. Then there were the walls. These walls were unlike any Sirius had ever seen, covered with moving images of different Quidditch teams.

"Wow," he breathed. Sirius's parents could certainly afford to give him such a room, but they instead chose not to. They thought Quidditch to be a frivolous game for people with their 'heads stuck in the clouds'. It was a game far too undignified for anyone of Black lineage to play. Perhaps that was a reason why Sirius loved it so much. It made him different from the rest of his family.

"Moving pictures get to be a bother at times," James said, smiling. "Want to play Wizard's chess? I think I've still got my old board in the closet somewhere."

But Mr. Potter walked in, interrupting James's search. "Excuse me, Sirius, my boy, but James and I need to have a little discussion about his trip to the Forbidden Forest. Mrs. Potter is baking chocolate biscuits, I'm sure she'd love a bit of help."

Mr. Potter had made it sound like they were just going to talk, but as Sirius made his way to the door it didn't escape his notice that the man held a worn out slipper. He mouthed 'good luck' to his mate, and slipped out of the room and down the steps.

Author's note: So there is a super long chapter for you all. I need reviews guys, how else am I supposed to know whether or not you like it?


	5. Chapter 5

Sirius had gone down the stairs, and Mr. Potter shut the door. "James," he began, crossing the room and sitting next to his son on the bed, "you and I need to have a little chat."

"Look, Dad, we were just bored, and we wanted to do something exciting!" James protested, knowing what he was in store for.

"I get it, son, truly I do. I'm okay with you having fun at school, but you put not only yourself but Sirius and Peter in danger."

James shifted a bit on his bed, biting his lip. "I'm sorry."

"I've no doubt you are, my boy. But putting yourself in danger always ends in a smacking. You know that." Mr. Potter picked up the slipper.

"Daddy!" James was really beginning to panic now, he hadn't called Charles 'daddy' in over a year.

"James, don't make this harder on me. I really don't want to do this. Just don't argue, please, and bare your bum so we can get this over with." Mr. Potter didn't want to do this, and he was disappointed that James had made it necessary.

"You don't have to-" James started to protest, but he saw the pain in his father's eyes, and recognized how upset he was he had to do this. He shut his mouth and shed his robes, his jeans coming off shortly after. To preserve his modesty, James turned away from his father to take down his underwear.

Charles sighed, but pulled his son over his knees into the right position before smacking him with the slipper. Once. Twice. Three times. By the time Mr. Potter had reached the 20 spanks limit he had set for himself to keep things controlled, James was bawling.

"It's over, hush, son. You're okay. I love you so much." Charles hated seeing his son in such a hysterical state, and he pulled James to him for a hug.

"I won't g-go into the forest, again! I solemnly swear!" James hiccuped. His tears slowed, and he became conscious of the fact that he was sitting on his father's lap. Quickly, he dressed himself again.

"Alright, son?" Charles asked, ruffling the boy's hair as James buttoned his robes.

"Alright. I love you."

Mr. Potter smiled, satisfied that his job had been done. "I love you, too, James. I'll send Sirius up."

(Insert line break here.)

Remus looked out the window. His grandfather was over, having tea with Rose. Remus never spoke to his grandfather, since the man seemed to think he was a monster. Rose tried to put off having tea with her father as long as possible, but the man was a lonely widower, and he was insistent that he come have tea with his daughter every Tuesday afternoon.

Every time Gregory Everett came over, he eyed his grandson with distaste until Remus felt uncomfortable enough to leave the room. Gregory was not a bad man, not in the slightest, for how could he have been? He raised Remus's mother, and she was a wonderful woman. It was simply that Remus was a werewolf, and Gregory did not take that well.

FLASHBACK

"Remus, Mummy's going to go inside for a mo and get the tub started, okay? Stay right there. It's almost time to go inside, so start picking up your toys, please," Rose said to the four year old boy sitting on the lawn. He looked up from his toy blocks.

"Kay," Remus agreed, never one to argue with his mother.

"Daddy'll be home in a few minutes, Rem, and if you get your toys put away then he might have time to read you a story before bed." With that, Mrs. Lupin went into the house.

Remus begin to pick up the blocks, the thought of leaving the yard never crossing his mind. He knew better. It was just dusk, and the moon had risen in the sky. It was a full one, and Remus stopped for a moment to admire it.

It was then he heard the growl behind him, low, inhuman. Remus dropped the block in his hand onto the grass, frozen in fear. This growl was not one he had heard before, and he didn't like it. Slowly, Remus turned. Ten feet behind him was a fully grown werewolf, sharp teeth bared. Remus tried to open his mouth, to scream, to do anything. He willed his legs to move.

The wolf had shaggy grey hair covering his large body. Its eyes shone in the moonlight in a mad, hungry way, and, even at four, Remus understood that he was not in a good situation. The little boy remembered what werewolves looked like, for his father worked at St. Mungo's and bore witness to the terrible things these creatures could do. John took it upon himself to drill into Remus what a werewolf looked like, so he would be aware.

"Bad. Bad." Remus scooted back on his bottom, inching himself closer to the house.

The werewolf seemed to understand him, for it cocked it's head and sent him a piercing glare before it started to inch forward, too. Menacingly, slowly, the creature advanced on Remus. That was when the little boy found his voice, and opened his little mouth to scream.

The werewolf had bitten him, jumped forward while Remus was screaming and plunged his sharp teeth into the side of the boy's forearm. Remus's childhood ended that day. A lot of things ended for Remus that day.

END OF FLASHBACK

(Insert line break here.)

Sirius made his way back up the stairs after Mr. Potter had come down. "Go on up," the man had said, patting Sirius on the back before stealing a biscuit from the tray.

Reaching his best friend's room, Sirius knocked on the door. He didn't wait for a response, and he walked in to see James with his pants at his ankles, examining a bright red bum in the mirror. "OI!" James yelled, yanking up his pants and underwear with fumbling fingers and dropping the handheld mirror on the floor.

"Sorry! Sorry!" Sirius said, covering his eyes and backpedaling out of the room. He closed the door behind him and allowed his mate a few moments to right his clothing before knocking again. He had seen James's bum before, but never after a walloping. That seemed personal, and Sirius wanted no part of it.

"Come in."

Sirius walked in for the second time, shutting the door behind him and sitting down on the floor to arrange the muggle chess set James had set out. They avoided each other's eyes for a moment before Sirius said, "He walloped you good."

James winced as he sat next to his friend on the floor. "I'll say."

"Does it happen a lot?" Sirius reached forward and moved his knight up.

James bit his lip before moving his bishop. "Once a month, probably."

Sirius pushed his rookie up one. "Oh."

"What about your dad?"

"My dad doesn't paddle me," Sirius answered truthfully. Orion much preferred to beat his son.

"No, he just beats you, right?" James said this bitterly, and Sirius looked up in alarm.

The two of them said nothing for a moment, James studying the chessboard and Sirius playing with the hem of his sleeve. Finally, Sirius looked up. He opened his moth to say something, then looked back down again. Eventually, he spoke. "H-How did you know?"

James shrugged. "I didn't. You just confirmed my suspicion."

Sirius felt anger boil up in him. "You prat. You bloody prat."

James casually moved a piece on the chessboard. "You flinched. At the station, you flinched when you talked to your mum."

Sirius abruptly flipped the chessboard over, scattering pieces everywhere. He got on his hands and knees and leaned close to James's face, taking on an expression he reserved only for Snape or Bella, his cousin. "Listen here, Potter. No one needs to know. No one will know. If someone finds out, Merlin help you."

"But if your father-"

Sirius cut him off, placing a hand over James's mouth. "I'm alive, aren't I? I can take care of my father just fine. You'll say nothing to anyone."

James pried his friend's hand off of his mouth. "Sit down, Black, no one's going to find out."

Appeased, Sirius rocked back on his heels. "It's Regulus I'm worried for. He doesn't have anyone to protect him with me away…"

James didn't say anything for a moment. He was working up the courage to ask Sirius something. "Sirius, when he bea-hurts you, what does he use?"

Sirius paused. "Um. It's his belt mostly. Um, sometimes his walking stick." He grinned. "Used to use a switch, from a tree, you know? But I broke every one of them, and now he uses something I can't break."

"Barbaric."

"Yeah, well," Sirius shrugged. "The way it is, I guess."

"It doesn't have to be."

Sirius looked up sharply. His face closed up, and it was clear to James that the conversation was over. "Let's go toss the quaffle."

(Insert line break here.)

Peter hoped his friends hadn't forgotten about him. A lot of his friends had abandoned him over the years, more times than he could remember. He hoped they would remember to write to him, as he had begged them so many times. Some might have called him desperate, but no, Peter was simply lonely. His aunt did her best by him, but she herself was awkward socially. She didn't take him to Wizards and Witches Daycare when he was little, and he had no contact with other children. He didn't know how to act in social situations.

He had finally found a pack to run with. These boys were cool and collected, everything Peter had always hoped to be. Peter played pranks with them, antagonized Severus Snape with them, and ate every meal with them. Those boys were the closest thing he'd ever had to brothers. They accepted the fact that he was a bit pudgy, endured his awkwardness, and generally made him feel included.

If they forgot about him, Peter didn't know what he'd do. There were other boys in Gryffindor, of course, but none like James, Sirius, and Remus. Those were the very first boys he'd ever felt like he belonged with, and he couldn't bear it if they dropped him.

Sirius seemed a bit prickly at times, but he was nice on the inside, and he would do anything for a friend. Other people didn't realize this, but Peter did. Peter, who never knew things, knew that Sirius didn't seem nice, but that he really was.

James seemed cocky, which, to be honest, he was. But Peter knew that he still slept with a stuffed animal and that he really wasn't as cocky as he pretended to be. Always an outsider, Peter finally knew something.

And that made him special, knowing something. If they suddenly decided to not like him anymore, or they asked him to switch dorms with one of the other boys in the tower, Peter would die. He would lose his inside information, and he would once again become the outsider he had promised himself he would never be again.

So Peter sat in his bedroom, staring out the window. Full of hope that an owl would arrive soon, praying that he hadn't simply dreamt he had friends, as he did so often.

TELL ME WHAT YOU THINK PLEASE!


	6. Chapter 6

"Happy Christmas, Sirius!" James said, throwing himself onto his friend's bed.

"Ugh, mate, 'gerroff."

"Get up! There are presents downstairs!" It was apparent to Sirius that James had no intention of letting him sleep even a minute more, and so he pulled the covers back and stretched.

"I'm up, you prat, now stop sitting on my stomach before I hex you," the boy yawned. James jumped down and grabbed Sirius by the arm before pulling hard. With a yelp, both boys tumbled to the floor in a heap of tangled sheets.

After a minute or so of cajoling, James managed to get Sirius to accompany him downstairs. It wasn't that Sirius didn't like Christmas, he did. It was just that it was going to be hard for him to sit there while James opened his presents. Sirius usually got some presents for Christmas, but he knew this year he wouldn't. Not when he had disgraced the entire name of Black by being the first one ever in Gryffindor.

"Happy Christmas, Mr. Potter. Happy Christmas, Mrs. Potter," Sirius greeted the two adults as he entered the kitchen.

"To you, too, Sirius," Hannah said, hugging both boys to her. "We'll have a bit of breakfast first, all right? Then we can see what Santa left you boys."

As surprised as Sirius was at the fact that he _would_ be getting a gift for Christmas, he didn't let it show. James sat at the table and began shoveling scrambled eggs into his mouth. Mr. Potter looked over James' head and rolled his eyes at Sirius in a 'what can you do' way. Sirius smiled and plopped down beside James, taking an equally big helping of eggs.

"Hope I got the new Cleansweep 300," James muttered around a mouthful of eggs. Hannah tapped his head.

"Chew," she ordered.

And chew he did. In several minutes, both boys had cleared their plates and darted into the parlor, where a tall pine tree was decorated with ornate red bulbs and clear lights. There were six presents for each boy underneath, and Sirius, though he had come from an extremely wealthy family, had never had six presents. Regulus got three or four, but never Sirius. Sirius was a disgrace from the minute he was born, and he was lucky to get one or two small gifts from his parents. His Uncle Alphard had send him a racing broom last Christmas, but Walburga had made such a fuss over the present. He was sure Uncle wouldn't dare send another gift to him.

"Sirius, these are for you." Charles pushed the six little boxes over to the boy, smiling.

"James, careful!" Hannah warned, for James had dove under the tree to reach his presents.

But James didn't tip the tree, and he came out from underneath the green holding five red boxes and a long, thin red package. He shook them first next to his ear, and the look on his face was one of a little kid. "C'mon, Siri. Open yours."

Sirius set the presents Mr. Potter had handed him on the ground, and sat beside them. The packages were all red with green bows, while James' were the opposite. "Sirius, go on," Mrs. Potter prompted, taking a seat on the couch. "The presents are just small things, of course. Your mother and father are surely going to send you things. It's a shame they're in Romania. You must miss them."

At this, Sirius nodded. "Yes, ma'am. Thank you both." He ripped into the wrapping of the first present, and found a small book. Sirius Black was not a reader, but he was excited by this book. It was titled '**Quidditch Through the Ages**', and Sirius doubted he had ever been so eager to read something.

"Thank you!" He grinned, opening the book and thumbing through the first few chapters.

"James mentioned you liked Quidditch," Charles explained.

Thirty minutes later, both boys were sitting in a heap of glossy wrapping paper. James had racked up, receiving a full Quidditch ball set, tickets to the Quidditch World cup next fall, the new broom he wanted, a book of pranks to pull, a snitch signed by Raymond Dawson-the Chudley Cannons seeker- and a new wand case with his initials on it. "Thanks, Mum! Dad!" James exclaimed when he had finished opening his presents.

Hannah smiled as her son launched himself into her arms for a hug. "Those are from Santa, James," she teasingly reminded him, and the boy rolled his eyes.

"Sure," he laughed, hugging his dad as well.

Sirius also hugged the Potters. They had given him a book, a Sneakascope, a pack of Chocolate Frogs, a wand case, night goggles to see in the dark, and a fountain pen with color changing ink. The gifts weren't nearly as nice or expensive as what James had gotten, but they thought his parents would send him things.

"Both of you are welcome. Now go play while we pick up the paper," Mr. Potter said, and James darted out of the parlor, Sirius following behind him.

(Insert line break here.)

At noon, the boys were sticky with sweat, and their hair was stuck to their foreheads. For three hours, Sirius and James had taken turns seeking the snitch. Sirius had borrowed Charles' old broom, and James had tried out his new one. One boy would throw the snitch, and the other would chase it. James had steadier hands, and it was easier for him to catch the snitch, but Sirius was faster on his broom.

"That was fun," James panted, taking his broom and putting it in the shed.

"Yeah," Sirius said, but he was distracted. He had just seen his mother's owl fly into the Potter's kitchen. He had to get to the letter before James' mother, lest their be something in there about the true reason Sirius was not home for the holiday.

_Mrs. Potter won't read your mail,_ Sirius thought to himself as he followed James back to the house.

And she didn't. She did, however, hand it to him when he walked in the house. "From your mother," Hannah smiled, handing him a thick parchment envelope.

Sirius took it from her hesitantly. Should he open it? James was looking grim, for he knew the contents of the envelope would not be pleasant. "You don't have to-" He started to whisper to Sirius, but his friend had slowly started opening it. Hannah had gone back to the stove to finish preparing the Christmas dinner they would be having.

_I'm simply writing to tell you that your father will be there to collect you shortly. Don't think this changes anything. I will not be known as a blood traitor simply because my son- I use that word loosely- decided to shame me by hanging around with one. You'll stay in your room this holiday, I don't want to see you. _

_Walburga _

Sirius forced himself to smile at Mrs. Potter. "My parents are home from Romania. They came home early just to see me. My f-father, he'll be coming to get me."

He felt James go stiff beside him. Mrs. Potter, however, had an entirely different reaction. "Oh, Sirius! You must be so excited to see them. It's been four months, after all, hasn't it?"

"Yes, ma'am. I better go pack, then." Sirius stuffed the letter in his pocket and climbed the stairs. James darted behind him, not saying anything. Sirius opened the door to James' room and surveyed the place where he had stayed for the last week.

There were clothes strewn everywhere, a quaffle teetering on the bookshelf, Sirius' trunk on the floor, looking as though it belonged. But it didn't. Not the trunk, not his clothes, not even him. This was the Potters' house, and no matter how hard he wished, he would never been a Potter.

"Let me see the letter." James demanded, looking angrier than Sirius had ever seen him.

"No," Sirius said simply. He picked up some of the clothes and sorted through them to find the ones that were his.

"Why not?"

Sighing, Sirius tossed James a shirt that was on the floor. "Because."

"That's not a very good excuse." James dropped the shirt on the floor again, determined not to do any tidying up.

Sirius looked at James for a second. Nodding, he tossed the letter to his friend. "No, it wasn't one of my best excuses."

Appeased, James read. When he had finished, Sirius watched his friend closely. "You're not, you know. A blood traitor, I mean," Sirius offered, feeling awkward.

"Yes, yes I am. By some peoples' standards, anyway. But that's okay. I know that's not how you think of me." James set down the letter. "You don't have to go back."

Scoffing, Sirius said, "Yes, I do, James. I'll be alright, I promise. Nothing I can't handle."

"How bad it is gonna be?"

Sirius laughed. "No worse than usual. Look, I'm all packed, lets go play Exploding Snap on the front porch until he gets here."

So that's what they did. Mrs. Potter and Mr. Potter sat with them, each reading a book. "Sirius," a sharp voice said, and everyone looked up from what they were doing. Orion was there, in black velvet robes with a green hem.

"Father," Sirius said, rising to stand. "Goodbye James, Mrs. Potter, Mr. Potter. Thank you for having me."

Charles noted the formal tone in Sirius' goodbye, something he hadn't heard before. Sure, he was polite, but he was a boy, and he didn't usually posses such formality. "Goodbye, Sirius," he said, rising. He hugged Sirius, feeling the boy stiffen. Then he extended his hand to Orion. "I'm Charles, and this," he gestured to his wife, who was now hugging Sirius, "is my wife Hannah. I trust you had an enjoyable trip in Romania?"

Orion looked at the hand and turned away after a moment of thought. "We didn't go to Romania. Is that what you told them?" He turned to Sirius. The boy nodded his dark head up and down.

"Yes, sir. I didn't know how else to explain-" Sirius's voice faltered as he looked at his father. Orion strode away.

"Sirius," he snapped. "We don't have all day, boy." Jumping, Sirius hurried to grab his trunk. It was heavy, and with no one to assist him, he was forced to drag it down off the wooden porch and onto the grass.

"Bye," he said to James as loudly as he dared. And then, "I'm coming, Father!"

Hannah and Charles didn't know what to say to their son as they watched his friend run after his father. They sat in silence, shocked that any parent who hadn't seen their child for months could be so cold.

"He's always like that," James said quietly, scooping up the cards from Exploding Snap and putting them in the box.

Hannah looked at her son sharply. "Meaning?"

James shrugged. "He doesn't like Sirius very much."

"Explain." It wasn't a request.

"He's just, I don't know. The entire family was in Slytherin, and then Sirius went and got put in Gryffindor."

Hannah looked at her son, lifting his chin so he looked into her eyes. "And nothing else?"

For a moment, James wanted to blurt out everything. But, remembering his promise to Sirius that he wouldn't tell anyone about the abuse, he shook his head. "No, mum. Nothing else."

(Insert line break here.)

Remus was happy to go back to school. It wasn't that he didn't love spending time with his parents, it was just that he missed his mates. His room seemed so quiet and empty without Sirius' sleep talking, Peter's snoring, and James' hyper pillow fights.

He had forgotten how much his parents hovered over him, doing everything for him. Being away at Hogwarts, he had learned to defend himself, and to do things on his own. The morning he was to go back, he was more excited than he had been on September 1st.

This time, he knew his way around. He wouldn't be fooled by Peeves, or by the trick staircases or the trap doors on the fifth floor. He also knew that he had friends, and he wouldn't have traded that for anything in the world. Being a werewolf, he had isolated himself from most children his age, afraid he would hurt them. Now he knew better. It was possible for him to be a werewolf, and have friends, too. Dumbledore had made sure of that.

"Remus, eat something. I know you're excited, but if you don't eat you'll pass out on the train, and we can't have that," John laughed.

Remus chuckled and picked at his eggs, too excited to actually eat anything. "Can we go? James said he was bringing chocolate biscuits for the train and Sirius will eat them all if we don't go soon."

"Okay, go get your shoes and we'll apparate."

Obediently, Remus managed to track down his trainers in record time, and he shoved them on his feet as he grabbed his trunk. "Slow down, Sport." John warned, steadying his son as Remus tripped over the rug.

John, Rose, and Remus grabbed hands and apparated to the platform wall. One by one they walked through the wall, only to find themselves in the middle of an already bustling platform 9 ¾.

"Are you ready?" John said, hugging his son. Remus nodded, hugging his mum as well.

"I'll write loads, I promise."

"Rem, be careful, please," Rose begged, kissing her son.

He nodded, knowing that he would be. He was always careful. It was one of the characteristics that came with being a werewolf. "I promise."

"If you have any problems, especially furry ones, have Dumbledore floo us," John reminded, and Remus nodded again, his eyes taking a dull hue.

So many rules to keep his life in line.

(Insert line break here.)

"I SAID STOP TALKING TO ME JAMES, YOU PRAT." Peter watched in horror as Sirius swung a fist at James in the middle of their dormitory. Not wanting any prefects to come up, Peter cast a silencing spell around the room.

"I JUST WANTED TO MAKE SURE YOU WERE OKAY!"

"THE LETTER MADE IT WORSE!" The pair of them hadn't seemed to notice Peter was in the room.

From what he could gather, James had sent Sirius a letter that had made someone angry. Of course, they had ignored each other on the train, forcing Peter and Remus to keep the conversation going. At the welcome back feast, Sirius had made a point of sitting as far away from James as was possible.

"Mates, settle down." Remus came out of the shower, hair wet, in flannel pajamas.

"PISS OFF, REMUS!" Sirius had turned on Remus now, and his fists were clenched so tightly to his sides that Peter was sure he was going to punch someone. It was only the first evening back at school, and already they were all fighting.

"Sirius-no listen! I didn't mean to make your Father cross with you. I just wanted to make sure that he hadn't-" James looked desperate now, and Peter wasn't quite following the conversation.

For a second, Sirius looked positively murderous, a drastic change from his usually easy going persona. Then he sat down on James' bed with a sigh. "Well, he did. I only caught it worse when he realized I'd told you about the b-about everything. Your letter came at breakfast the next morning, and I couldn't get to it before he did. He read it and he burned it and he came upstairs and, well."

Remus looked as confused as Peter felt. "Mates," Peter said softly, "mind filling us in?"

James shook his head. "Not my story to tell. I'm going to go and brush my teeth." Then he hopped up from the bed and walked into the bathroom.

The room was positively silent. Remus was biting his lip, a habit he seemed to have whenever things were uncomfortable. Sirius was breathing hard enough for Peter to hear, panting almost. He really had let loose on James, all of the anger he had exploding at one time. But it wasn't James he was mad at really, or at least Peter didn't think so.

"Most of my family was in Slytherin," Sirius began softly, "all of it, really. I was the first boy in an entire century who was sorted into another house." A laugh escaped his lips, but Peter was scared by it. It wasn't his friend's usual barking laugh, loud and ringing. This laugh was quiet, full of bitterness that Peter couldn't hope to understand.

Continuing, Sirius said, "Bloodlines are rather important to my parents. I messed up the purity by hanging around with muggleborns and halfbloods in Gryffindor, I suppose. My father wasn't particularly pleased when he found out I was in Gryffindor, and he went absolutely mental when I went home with James for Christmas. So he went to the Potters on Christmas and took me home with him.

I caught it bad, of course. Right when I got home he took off his belt and whipped me with it. That wasn't so bad, course, 'cause I've had worse. It was James' letter that set him off. See, while I was at the Potters, James figured it out, you know. That my father, if you could call him that, was a sadistic bastard that took his anger out on me. And he wrote me to see if I was okay, mentioning that I should really tell someone about the beatings. You can imagine how angry Father was when he read that."

By this time, James had come out of the loo, and he was staring at the floor as if there was something interesting on it. Remus looked absolutely horrified, and Peter, for his part, felt sad. That was terrible, and Sirius spoke of it so nonchalantly, as if it didn't matter that his own father hated him.

"Take off your shirt." Remus had never spoken like that, ever. It was a tone of finality, the kind no one could argue with.

Sirius looked startled, and Peter figured he wasn't going to take off his shirt. But he did. Slowly, sure, but the shirt came off, and when it did, Remus nodded. He motioned for Sirius to come over to his bed, and the shirtless boy wordlessly obeyed.

As Sirius passed by his bed, Peter stifled a gasp. There were scars on his friend's back, ranging from long to short. Most of them were white and puffy, but there were new ones present also. Those new scars were a reddish pink, and they looked to be very painful.

"I figured you probably had some scars," Remus explained quietly. "This will sting a bit, but it feels better after a minute or two." With that, he spread his own scar cream on his friend's back with careful, practiced hands.

Sirius didn't whine, though, and it was obvious he was grateful for the relief. "Mother gave me some more bruise cream, but it doesn't do much besides hide the bruises. Doesn't even cover scars. I'm sorry that I didn't tell you lot, but I didn't know you all that well. I figured since James knew, you two ought to also."

James looked as if he could cry, and Peter didn't know what to say. Remus, however, obviously did, because he sighed, "Everyone has secrets, Sirius."

And how true that was.


	7. Chapter 7

"Potter!" Snape yelled as James dropped an apple in the Slytherin's cauldron.

"Problem, boys?" Horace asked good-naturedly, looking up from the essays he was grading. The two boys were in detention for fighting in the corridor, though James claimed it was entirely Severus' fault. Dumbledore had no choice, though, but to put the both of them in detention. When he had come across the two they had literally been at each others throats. Severus was shoved against a wall holding James' throat, and James was holding Severus'.

"No, sir," James said pleasantly, "I was just helping Snive-er, Severus with his potion."

The rivals had been assigned a Saturday detention with Horace Slughorn, the potions master. He had set them the task of brewing a simple healing potion, as Madam Pomfrey was in need of a few more vials.

Horace, however nice of a man he might have been, was quite daft. He nodded, smiling. "Quite nice of you, Mr. Potter, though I don't think Severus here has ever had a potion he couldn't do. Quite nice of you, though, quite nice. Ten points to Gryffindor."

James smirked at Snivellus as soon as Professor Slughorn had gone back to grading essays. Served the greasy git right for taunting Sirius about his father. Severus was rather good friends with Bella Black, though she was years older, and Bella had told him about how her uncle treated Sirius. The two thought it was funny, the prats.

"How mad is dear old Daddy going to be after he finds out you're still hanging out with Potty?" Bella had said in the hall Friday afternoon to Sirius as James stood beside him. "Might even whip you again, hm?" Thankfully, no one else had heard her, except for Severus. The git had laughed, cackled, really.

Sirius had walked on, ignoring his cousin and Snivellus. James wanted to pound Bella, but she was bigger, more advanced at hexes, and she was a girl. So James had lunged at Snivellus, shoving him into a wall and holding his throat. "Shut up," James hissed. "It's not bloody funny."

Severus had grabbed James' throat, then, and Dumbledore had found them like this minutes later. The two of them were in a battle of the wills, waiting for the other to release his grip. Bella had long since run off, not even attempting to aid Severus.

Saturday was ruined now. Thanks to Snivellus, James wasn't going to get any time to mess about. Sundays, Remus forced them all to study for at least two hours, so Saturday was the only day James got to play on the Quidditch pitch. He'd been dying to show Frank Longbottom his new racing broom, and had also been hoping to spot a certain redhead on the lawn.

"All your fault, bloody prat," mumbled James as he chopped a root to go in his potion.

"I have impeccable hearing, Potter, so shut your mouth before I shut it for you," Snape mumbled back, his cauldron a mere five feet from James'.

James was about to retort when he noticed with satisfaction that Snivellus had needed to start his potion from scratch again, due to the apple. Victory was his. Deciding to leave the git alone for now, James turned back to his own potion and continued his rather rough chopping once again.

Fifteen minutes later, James was released from detention, having finished his potion. Severus would stay with Slughorn until he had finished his potion, at which time he would be released. James felt he ought to be congratulated for thinking to bring an apple to detention. Had he not dropped it in Snivellus' cauldron, the git would have finished his potion a long time ago.

"Alright, Evans?" He said to the redhead as he entered the Gryffindor common room to grab his new broom. The girl was curled up on the couch reading her potions book, of all things. And on a Saturday, too! No one else was even in the common room. It was too nice a day to be inside.

Lily looked up, smiling. When she realized it was James, the smile fell off her face. "No, James Potter! I am most certainly not alright! Why do you have to pick on Severus so?" She stood, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Aw, Evans, I don't see why you've got to defend him. He's just a slimy Slytherin," James said, faltering slightly when he noticed the enraged look upon her face.

"He's my friend, and you know it, too! And my name is Lily!" She picked up her textbook and stormed, barefoot, up the girls dormitory steps.

"Girls," James muttered, shaking his head. He went up the stairs to retrieve his broom.

(Insert line break here.)

"Where's Rem?" James asked as soon as he saw Sirius and Peter sitting in front of the pond.

"His mum's ill again," Peter said, scooting over and making room for James on the grassy part of the ground.

James set down his broom and stretched out on the grass. His back hurt from leaning over his cauldron. "That's rough. Headmaster come get him again?"

Sirius nodded. He was watching a fifth year Ravenclaw with wild brown curls laugh with her friends across the lawn. Her name was Athena, he knew. Her friends always called to her in the hallways.

"He fancies that Ravenclaw girl," Peter said to James, happy to know something.

"Do not!"

"Do too!"

"Do not!"

"Do too!"

"Shut up before I hex you both!" James exclaimed. Peter fearfully shut up, for James' hexes were very painful, but Sirius leaned over and punched the boy in the arm before settling down.

"Alright, Pete, I'm sorry. I do fancy her a bit," Sirius admitted, twirling the green grass in his fingertips absentmindedly as Athena let out a laugh at something one of her friends had said.

"She's four years older than you, and she's dating someone," James pointed out. Athena was one of the Ravenclaw beaters, which was the only reason James knew about her. He followed Quidditch religiously, even though he couldn't play yet.

"But if she wasn't-" Sirius said, before he realized the impossibility of a fifteen year old dating an scrawny eleven year old such as himself.

"Unlucky, mate," James sympathized. "Hey, you lot want to sneak out tonight? It's full moon and there's bound to be loads of stars. We could come right out here and star watch."

"Wish Remus could come," Peter grumbled, but he agreed to the plan, as did Sirius.

"We'll use the cloak, that way we won't get caught."

It was settled. That night, the three of them got ready for bed, and when one of the Prefects came around to make sure they were all accounted for, they pretended to be in deep sleep already.

Five minutes after the Prefect had shut the dormitory door, Sirius slid out of bed and put on his slippers and the night vision goggles he'd gotten for Christmas from the Potters. James had unpacked his cloak, and Peter stuffed his pockets with Chocolate Frogs to eat once they got there.

"Quiet, now," Sirius instructed, pulling the lightweight silvery fabric of the cloak over them. His night vision goggles were very helpful for leading them through the dark common room and through the corridors.

"This is exciting," Peter whispered, fighting to keep his voice in a whisper. They had all reached the lawn now, and, as James had predicted, the stars shone brightly in the dark sky, overpowered only by the vibrant glowing of the white full moon.

"Come on, then," James ordered, tugging the cloak off and holding it tight in his fist as he raced across the lawn. He settled on a part that was completely washed out by the moon's light, and he flopped back in the grass with a sigh of contentment.

Sirius grabbed Peter's arm and they joined James, laying flat on the grass and peering up towards the sky. For several minutes, no one spoke. All three boys were engrossed by how well you could see the stars. The only sound was a slight rustle as the wind rushed through the leaves on the trees.

Their comfortable silence was soon penetrated by a high pitched howling noise in the night. Peter stiffened, frightened easily. Another bout of howling started, louder than the last. Whatever was making the noise was obviously in pain.

"It's just the ghouls, remember? That article two months ago?" Sirius said lightly, but even Peter, who was not the most perceptive person, picked up on the soft undertone of fear hidden in his friend's voice.

James was eating a chocolate frog, wand in his free hand. "We're fine," he said around a mouth of frog leg. "Got my wand, haven't I?"

"Yeah," Peter said softly, "We're alright." These words were mostly to reassure himself. The howling was constant now, loud and high pitched and awful.

Sirius could hear the pain in the howling, and it made him uncomfortable. It was almost like something was lonely, like something wanted help.

(Insert line break here.)

There was no Remus. There was only Wolf. And Wolf was hungry. There was nothing for Wolf to eat, and he grew more and more agitated as the evening wore on. He wanted to hunt. He wanted to escape the small room in which he was confined, but no matter how many times he threw himself at the wall, nothing budged.

Rage built up inside of the Wolf until he was sure he would explode from the pain of it all. Growls ripped themselves from the animal's throat, first low and soft, and then growing increasingly louder as he realized no one would come for him. Flesh. That's the only thing that would appease Wolf, yet there was no flesh in sight.

Angrier than before, Wolf tore at his own body with his sharp claws, scratching at his own fur and biting himself as he howled in pure agony. He threw himself into the wall of the shack, and rolled around on the dirt floor as he continued to injure himself. Remus was long gone by this point, replaced by the hungry animal who wanted nothing other than to bite something-anything.

He howled louder, hoping to be answered by one of his own. But no answer came to him. There was no sound. Louder howls poured from his mouth as he bared his teeth. Where were his kind? Why wouldn't they come to him, help him escape from his prison?

Blood was on the floor, mixing with the dirt. Wolf was biting himself again, this time deep enough to draw blood. Anger and hunger were his only emotions, and that was never a good combination. Bruises were forming underneath the thick fur, but Wolf didn't notice, or otherwise didn't care.

Wolf did not grow tired as most people would have assumed. His howls did not grow quieter, and he did not stop tearing at his own body in his desperation. He did not sleep, and he did not sit. He paced the shack's perimeter, hoping to find a way to get out.

There was no exit, of course. There never was.

* * *

><p>Pain was all Remus felt. In his arms, his legs, his face. His entire body was covered in dark purple bruises and scratches. There was a gash underneath his left elbow, where he had bitten himself in his rage. Not that he remembered his transformation. He never did.<p>

Remus was on the floor of the shack, his hair matted with dried blood and dirt. The blood was his own, and there was quite a lot of it. He was almost certain he was laying in a puddle of blood, but his head hurt too much for him to look up. Madam Pomfrey would be by for him in a minute or so, he was sure. Until then, he remained flat on his back, breathing hard and trying to ignore the pain he was in.

Madam Pomfrey was good at fixing him up, but she was usually in a big hurry, seeing as no one else could see Remus in the Hospital Wing. Sometimes, she neglected to heal a few of the bruises by accident, and his mates would question him. Remus hoped she cured all of it this time, seeing as Sirius and James were already getting rather suspicious. Peter believed Remus fully, and that made Remus feel the tiniest bit guilty for lying.

"Remus," a voice said. Remus moaned in response. He wanted to sleep; his entire body was weighed down with tiredness. Cold, soft hands were touching him now, lifting him. "Remus, it's Madam Pomfrey. You've got to stay awake for me, please."

It was early, Remus knew, and he felt bad that Madam Pomfrey had to get up early so that no one would see him coming back into the school. He knew what would happen if someone saw him coming back from the Whomping Willow. There would be questions, which Remus would be required to answer.

Remus didn't bother to open his eyes for a while. Madam Pomfrey was closing his wounds so it was safe to move him. He was being carried through the exit, brought into the crisp January air. Madam Pomfrey never had any trouble carrying him, she said, because he was the skinniest boy she'd ever seen.

The air felt nice on his skin, and he allowed himself to close his eyes for only a moment. Just a moment...

When he woke again, he was tucked into a warm hospital bed, feeling much stronger than he had previously. Madam Pomfrey was sitting beside him, a cold hand on his hot forehead. "Remus, no one saw us. You can relax."

And the tension in his muscles melted away. He didn't have to worry anymore, at least, not until the next full moon. "Thank you," he croaked, for he felt he owed it to her.

She dismissed his thanks with a shake of her head. "I've healed you. There will be scars, of course, but that's to be expected. I'm going to go get the potions for you. You've still got plenty of bruises I need to fix up, also." His potions were Pepper Up potion, Skelegrow if he'd broken anything (this time it was his left thumb), and any other potions Madam Pomfrey thought he needed.

Closing his eyes again, Remus nodded. He felt her rise from the edge of the bed, and he heard her foot steps as she walked off down the hall towards her potions storage room. She hadn't bothered to draw the curtains around his bed; it was too early for anyone else to come down to the Hospital Wing.

There was no longer any pain, only a dull ache that Remus could easily ignore. In a few minutes, he would feel close to normal again, and he could go back to his dorm and pretend to be fine, like he always did. Pretending to be fine was one thing he was very good at, since he'd done it his entire life.

Everyone said he was a bad liar, but he wasn't really. His excuses were rubbish, maybe, but he could lie and say that he wasn't in pain, and everyone would believe him. He had learned not to complain. Complaints would never change the fact that he was a werewolf. Nothing would.

While he thought about this, someone had entered the Hospital Wing. Not just anyone, either. James Potter stood by the door, staring at the hospital bed in which Remus was tucked. "Remus?" James said, and Remus's eyes snapped open. He looked at James closely, not answering, frozen with fear.

James was coming closer now, slowly. He was looking at Remus as if he had never seen him before. "Remus?"

"Stay away." This was all Remus could manage. James would hate him, when he found out, and he would tell everyone. Parents would complain and Dumbledore would have to expel Remus. He would go back to living with his parents, and the whole world would know who he was. What he was.

But James never listened to anyone, and he kept coming forward until he reached the bed. "You're hurt," James said dumbly, looking down at his friend's bruised face and scarred shoulders.

It occurred to Remus that he wasn't wearing a shirt. No one except Madam Pomfrey, his mum, and his dad, had ever seen him shirtless. There were scratches and bite scars on his shoulders, which was why he kept his shirt on at all times.

Instead of making a retort as he normally would, Remus attempted to slide his shoulders under the covers. He willed Madam Pomfrey to come back and Obliviate James, but she seemed to be having trouble finding what she needed. "Go," Remus croaked.

"What the bloody hell happened to you?" James thundered, angry now. "Who did this?"

Madam Pomfrey swooped into the wing then, carrying several vials of potions. She saw James by the bed, and understood by Remus' panicked face that he did not know what to say. "Mr. Potter, how can I help you?" She asked, causing the boy to jerk around.

"Headache," James answered, studying the vials in her hands.

"Come on, then, and leave Mr. Lupin to rest. I daresay being attacked by a dog is enough for one day." This was the only excuse that she could come up with, but Remus was grateful nevertheless.

"A dog? I thought you were at your parents house." James resisted Madam Pomfrey's attempt to pull him away.

"My neighbor's dog attacked me this morning, and Dad thought Madam Pomfrey could fix me up quicker than St. Mungo's." This lie had just come from Remus' mouth, with no hesitation at all.

James looked suspicious, but he accepted it for now. Madam Pomfrey drew the curtains on Remus' bed, and took James by the arm to the other side of the wing. She found the potion he needed, and he drank without protest. Everything was silent for a minute or so.

"Alright, now back to bed with you, Mr. Potter," Madam Pomfrey said, giving him a push towards the door.

James went willingly, calling out, "Thank you, Madam. See you later, Rem."

When he was gone, Remus burst into tears. So much for normal.


	8. Chapter 8

James got back to his dorm in record time, jumping onto Sirius's bed and bouncing until Sirius slapped him in the face. "Prat," he slurred, for he was tired. They'd been up late last night, almost until dawn.

"Get up, Peter!" James threw a pillow at his other friend's head, but Peter didn't wake. He never woke on the first try. James sighed. This called for extreme measures. "BREAKFAST, PETER!"

The boy sat up almost instantaneously, turning his head to James. "Breakfast?" He murmured.

Sirius rolled his eyes. "Nah, James just decided he wanted us to wake up at 4:00 bloody o'clock in the morning."

"Oh, shut it! Remus is in the Hospital Wing. Says he got attacked by a dog, but that's rubbish. Somebody beat him up. And we're gonna find out who." James said all this very fast, jumping off of Sirius's bed and pulling on a pair of trousers.

"Remus was with his mum," Peter said, climbing out of bed, "and his dad, wasn't he? Why is he at Hogwarts?"

"Said something about his dad thinking it was easier for Madam Pomfrey to fix him up than having to go to St. Mungo's," James said, adjusting his glasses on his face.

Sirius sat up. "How do you think we are going to find out what's wrong with him?"

James looked at his best friend as if he had never seen him before. "Obviously you're not awake yet, Siri, so I'll let that slide. We're going to do what we always do when we need to figure something out."

Peter tied his shoes and tossed Sirius his robe. "We're going to ask?" Peter said dumbly, still sleepy.

"No, Peter. We're going to spy."

Sirius grinned, grabbed something off of his desk, and zoomed out of the dorm.

* * *

><p>Sirius crept around the corner in front of the Hospital Wing doors. "We're fine," he whispered. He grabbed Peter by the arm. "Peter, listen- no, don't talk. I'm going to punch you in the face right now. Try to be quiet."<p>

Peter took on a startled expression as Sirius' fist came flying towards his face. He squealed and tried to dodge the blow, but Sirius caught the boy's cheek with his knuckles. It wasn't enough to cause a bruise, but it did leave a mark, which is what Sirius was going for.

James looked completely horrified. "Sirius, mate, have you completely lost it?"

But Sirius was smiling. "No, I'm brilliant. Don't you see? Peter's going to go in there and say that a fight is going on in the Common Room. He's going to say that someone got really hurt, and he tried to break it up but he couldn't. Madam Pomfrey will leave the infirmary to go help that hurt boy. Then me and James' will sneak in and talk to Remus."

"What's she going to say when there is no fight?" Peter huffed.

"Oh, but you see, there will be one. I left a picture of Hannah Jerod kissing Samuel Thomas on Gregory Pinch's pillow before we came down here. Dropped a book on the floor to make sure he woke up."

Hannah Jerod and Gregory Pinch, third years, had been dating for the entire semester. Samuel Thomas and Gregory Pinch were best mates. This would not end well.

"How'd you come by that?" James asked in admiration.

"I snatched your cloak on the night of the Gryffindor Quidditch party and hid in the cupboard. I knew we'd need scandalizing pictures one day."

James looked at Sirius in awe. He admired his best friend's ability to think ahead. "Alright, then. Peter, mate, you know what to do."

And Peter, despite being nervous, preformed beautifully. He burst into the Hospital Wing with force, and Madam Pomfrey looked up sharply. "It is 5 o'clock in the morning, Mr. Pettigrew. What could possibly-"

Peter interrupted, "There's a fight, Madam, in the common room. Someone got realy hurt. I tried to stop it. Need help." He said this all very quickly, acting as though he was out of breath.

Madam Pomfrey didn't ask anymore questions. She simply put down the vial she was holding and rushed past Peter into the hallway. Peter followed after her.

James took this opportunity to slip into the Hospital Wing before the doors closed. "Remus, it's me and Sirius. We're here to see you," he explained, walking down the row of beds. There was only one bed that had the curtains drawn.

But no sound came. Not even the sound of breath, or of Remus trying to curl himself further into the covers to avoid being seen. There was no sound except for the footsteps of Sirius walking behind James, and it was creepy. Sirius was about to suggest that maybe Remus had gone back to his mum and dad's when he heard a voice. It was Remus. Weak and shaky, yes, but Remus all the same.

"James, please, you don't understand."

"We just came to say hi, me and Sirius, mate. And to find out who bloodied you up," James said softly in response, reaching out and pulling the curtains back on Remus' bed.

Sirius realized that something was terribly, horribly wrong with his mate. James did not live in a house full of Dark Magic, and so he could not understand that Remus had been attacked, yes, but not by a dog.

There was a bite mark on Remus' collarbone, where his robes usually covered. He was not wearing robes, however, and the bite was clearly visible to Sirius. It was not the bite of a dog, or a cat, or a snake, even, but something much, much worse.

Werewolf.

**Usually I'd give you two more little parts to this, but today I'm not going to. Mwuahahaha. Thank you to all my reviewers, and to those who waited patiently for this next part. I'm sorry it took so long to get this up, but I've been really busy with school lately. Updates will come quicker now, I promise. **


	9. Chapter 9

James felt Sirius go completely rigid beside him when the curtain was drawn back. Remus looked awful, and desperate, besides. There was something he did not want them to know, something he was going to go to extreme measures in order to hide.

Remus did not look like himself. He looked considerably more healed than he had hours earlier when James had seen him, but his scarred face was pale and sickly looking. "You have to go," Remus said, reaching out to try and draw the curtains back, "Go, please, go now."

There was raw panic in the boy's voice, a side of Remus that James had never seen. He did not want to leave his friend here, hurting in this hospital bed, until he figured out what had really happened. So he did not go. He did not move an inch from where he stood, though Sirius had started to tug urgently on his sleeve.

"Really, James," Sirius said, and James was startled to detect that there was fear in his voice, "Let's go."

Remus looked sharply at Sirius, giving him a calculating look before he looked down it terror at the faintest scar on his collarbone. With great speed, he tugged the blanket over his neck, nestling it right under his chin. He avoided looking at Sirius, and James couldn't understand what had transpired between the two of them in that one silent moment.

"What's going on, Sirius?" James demanded, but Sirius shook his head quickly.

"Not now, James, please come on, please." Sirius had never begged anything of James before, but even so, James couldn't bring himself to leave Remus alone.

"Don't worry about Madam Pomfrey, Sirius," James said, sure this was why Sirius was acting strangely. "You took care of that."

Remus was trying to hide himself under the covers when Sirius turned to him with the most enraged look he had ever seen. "DO YOU WANT TO TELL HIM WHAT YOU'VE KEPT FROM US? OR SHOULD I?"

And then Remus started crying and James was shaking Sirius' arm and Sirius was trembling, a combination of fear and anger overtaking him. "He's sick, Siri. Please calm down," James begged, and Remus only began to sob harder.

"You can't tell," Remus whispered fiercely to Sirius, "I wasn't trying to hurt anybody, that's the only reason I didn't tell you. You know I'm not dangerous. I'm not! I'm still Remus!"

"The Remus we knew would have told us something like this before we had to figure it out ourselves," Sirius said bitterly, but with no real bite behind his words. "We could have helped."

James stood still, utterly confused as Remus continued to sob. Sirius no longer sounded angry, just sad, and James couldn't understand what had happened.

"No one could have helped, Sirius. Not the doctors at St. Mungos, not the greatest Potions Master in the entire world, and especially not you." It was Remus' turn to sound bitter.

Sirius looked as if he'd been slapped, and then, ever so carefully and deliberately, he stepped forward towards Remus, sliding the blanket back so that the boy's collarbone was revealed once more. With shaking hands, Sirius pointed to the scar James had seen earlier.

"Remus," Sirius said, voice shaking even more than his hands. "Remus, tell James what that scar is." But Remus was crying again, and he couldn't bring himself to formulate the words, so Sirius did it for him. "James, Remus is a Werewolf."

**This could quite possibly be the shortest thing I've written besides a Drabble. Hope you enjoy this little taste, and thank you for the reviews :) **

**I promise you'll get a really long chapter next time. I just kind of wanted to stop it at a cliffy. **


	10. Author's Note NOT A CHAPTER

_Hi everybody. I'm so sorry I haven't updated in ages, but I've been really busy with school and work. It's summer now, and I think I'll be able to get _

_a chapter up in the next week or so. Thank you all for your patience, and for all of the reviews! I can't express to you how much I appreciate all of _

_my readers for sticking around with me. I hope that when I do put the chapter up you all find it worth the wait. Also, if any of you have ideas about _

_where you want this story to go, or what you'd like to hear more about, don't hesitate to tell me! _

_Cheers!_


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